Swing
by Funara
Summary: The changing of the seasons and a schoolchild's plaything reunite two demons and push their relationship one step farther...SHOUNEN AI Hiei x Kurama
1. Foreword

FOREWORD:  
  
Seldom does a voice, in the field of professional writing, make a true mark on your perceptions. That at the end of the day you can sift through the scuffs made from the snippets of your reading material and remember a choice phrase that made you stop and muse. Perhaps it was the glib tongue that makes you dote upon a particular passage, or the underlying symbolism that peeks out from the shadows of the words for those able to recognize it to find a deeper meaning. Maybe it was just darn clever. This is the sort of writing that enlivens our speech and our vocabulary. It inspires us in our own writing. A good book is like a good meal. It is to be devoured with your eyes until the last drop drizzles into your brain and settles, leaving you satisfied. With fresh ideas and moods and connotations floating around from your experience, you are wiser. It's a great feeling. Seldom do you find this... in the world of professional writing.  
  
Now here you are, at Fanfiction dot net.

...Wow.

Let me provide for you a bit of an insight into the unspoken words behind that pregnant pause. Typing on a keyboard, on the grand spectrum of intelligence, is somewhere between playing "Mary Had A Little Lamb" on the piano and drowning in a puddle of rainwater that is collecting in your gaping, upturned mouth. Having an idea for a story is somewhere between being able to order your own food at a drive-thru and communicating in a series of grunts and clicks. Uploading a document from your computer onto the internet is about synonymous with the mental capacity required to identify simple words and phrases. To put it quite bluntly, praying that none of you fanfiction writers are off grinding your swords against the ole whetting stone to defend your honors against the mass of insults I've just hurled at you, any down home Chucky from Cali-for-nie-ay can post a story here. There is no selection process, no editors or publishers or any ranking of person to judge your masterpieces, unlike in the realms of Harry Potter and what have you. This means that the rare elite are mixed in with every Tom, Dick, and Harry who can peck away at a keyboard about how "tOtAlY r00XoRs LOL L33T!" the Gundam Wing robots are, and every Jane, Jill, and Sally who decides to post their plotless, pre-pubescent drivel regarding the TRUE feelings of (insert generic anime yaoi couple here).  
  
The purpose of this little blurb is to tell you that your search through this website has not been in vain. You've stumbled upon my good friend Funara's first fic, a meticulously edited (and I should know!) and obsessed over work that's sure to satisfy your hunger for that shining voice amongst the endless influx of relevant and irrelevant information. As the beta for this story, I'm not required to make any effort other than reading the story and adding a casual suggestion here or there. But the intelligence, feeling, imagery, and elegance in which this particular one was written compels me to share with you, the possible reader, of my finds in it. To abandon fancy words for a minute...? It's good stuff!!  
  
Now...  
  
You have a couple of choices at this juncture. You can kick yourself in the head for reading such an uppity and long-winded foreword to a story that sings its OWN praises, then quickly continue on to the story, or you could decide that there's something cagey about my mannerisms, shut down your computer, and light it aflame. I seriously recommend the former, since not only is this story quite pleasant to read, but I wholly endorse owning and functioning a computer, as it is an extremely useful contraption that you can derive hours of entertainment from. If you do, however, end up choosing the latter suggestion, I strongly recommend that you have a pail of water at hand and to consult your local fireman as to keep a domestic fire under control. I've heard that not only are they remarkably hot, but they can be remarkably painful as well. But this is merely rumor and hearsay--your best bet would be to have a chat with the fireman.  
  
Thank you for your patience with me, and I truly wish you enjoy.  
  
--_Random Author Person_


	2. Author's Notes

**Author's Notes**

**Disclaimer: **None of the characters, worlds, or mannerisms mentioned in the following pages belong to me. They belong to the incredibly talented (and probably wealthy) Togashi Yoshihiro-sama, who created them, Shogakukan Comics and Shounen Jump, who serialized them, and to Studio Pierrot and other animation companies, who brought these beloved characters to life on the big screen. (Or small screen, depending on your TV size.) They probably also belong to FUNimation and Viz Comics now too. The only thing, sadly, that I own is this fic...and maybe a few overpriced volumes of the English version of the Yu Yu Hakusho manga.

Well, now that that's out of the way…If you're reading this, then you must have read the beautifully eloquent foreword written for me by my good friend and beta, Random Author Person. If you haven't, you should. (That's an implicit order.) Her writing far surpasses mine, and she still offered to write me a foreword and beta for me! Much love and thanks to her for editing and listening to my ranting.

Anyway, in case you missed the warning in the summary, this is SHOUNEN AI. For those of you who don't know, that means boy/boy relationships. If this sort of thing makes you squeamish and/or causes you permanent and severe brain damage and/or provokes a sudden epileptic fit, read no farther! Click the back button!

For those of you who are left, this is my first fic (as stated by Random Author Person), so that makes it my first shounen ai fic too. You'll notice that each part is labeled "part" as opposed to "chapter". That's because these were originally meant to be separate fics, and they were meant to be read in a specific order. However, I've made them into parts of the same fic on the advice of my beta, who thought that it'd be best in order to avoid confusion.

Also, for those of you who've seen (all of) Cardcaptor Sakura, you might notice that this fic bears a faint resemblance to that episode where Sakura tells Shaoran that Yukito doesn't return her feelings. I could always claim I was inspired by that and actually have a legitimate source of inspiration for this, but the truth is, this story was not really inspired by anything. The idea just popped into my head. I don't even have a muse to blame it on. It has nothing to do with that particular episode of CCS.

That's all, folks. Please continue on to the story and enjoy.

Funara

P.S. You might notice that, in the Foreword, it says "Fanfiction dot net" which is, I must concur, a very awkward phrase. The truth is, the site wouldn't let me type a seemingly Web address-y name in the text. Hence, after toiling long hard and conferencing with Random Author Person, this is the solution we hit upon.


	3. Part One

**Swing **

Part one

By Funara

Swing.

Extend legs.

Draw them back.

Swing.

I'm not sure why I'm here. I don't know why I'm swinging slowly, sitting on a contraption I'm quite sure was not designed for a twenty-two year old. All I know is that my feet carried me to this playground. I didn't used to come to this particular park, because it was so far away from my old house, but now I have my own apartment, one that's only five minutes from here.

I open my eyes. The cloud that had been covering the sun has partially floated away, so I can see a little gold peeking out. We haven't had much sun this week—mostly rainy, windy days. Because of the weather, I hadn't been able to tend my garden, and I was worried that the rain would kill the roses. Today, though, the rain finally let up, and I left the confines of my home for the outside. Some of the less hardy roses had died and rotted, but the others were fine. Thank goodness for fertilizer and youki.

The sound of squelching boots makes me turn my head, but it's just the old man who takes it upon himself to maintain the few flowers that grown on the edges of the playground. He grins at me, nodding his acknowledgements, and keeps on walking. I've never actually talked to him, nor do I know his name, occupation or anything of the sort, but it doesn't really matter. He's just another regular.

Sometimes though, I wish he would talk to me. It would be nice to talk to someone without preconceived notions of my personality. In the office, everyone seems content to live with his fantasy of what Minamino Shuuichi is like; nobody ever really tries to find out. I'm still the perfect son, the perfect coworker. Finishing school and moving onto a new environment meant nothing; my reputation preceded me there too.

Conversation. How long has it been since I've talked to someone who really understands me? Someone who knows what it's like to be me—struggling to keep Shuuichi's reputation up and clamping down on Kurama's wilder whims? I'd say about four years—four years since the Urameshi team finished its last mission and was allowed to disband.

We all kept in touch for the first year or so. We'd all known each other for over three years, and fighting youkai and stopping disasters did a lot to bond us to each other. But after a while, we started to see less and less of each other. Sure, we'd spot each other in the street and chat for a bit, but we grew apart, and there was less and less for us to talk about.

Now that I've moved, I don't see much of the others anymore. And I miss them. Yuusuke, the rakish, reckless leader of our team. Kuwabara, always rather graceless, but honest and hardworking nonetheless. Genkai, our wizened, acerbic shihan. The girls too—Keiko, Botan, Yukina, Shizuru… Always sweet and enthusiastic, but they all certainly knew how to hold their own. I miss them dearly--my second family—but none of them are the one who constantly crops up in my thoughts.

The swing slowly stops as I cease pushing. It oscillates for a little bit, before stopping totally. I'm suspended a foot above ground.

Hiei.

There are too many thoughts, memories and feelings tied up in that name to properly examine each one, so I only ever get a fleeting glimpse of each one and still now struggle to identify them. Regret, elation, loneliness, contentment, jealousy, wonder…the list goes on and on. I've seen the fire demon only once since the team disbanded, and that was because he had come to visit Yukina only to find that she was on a date with Kuwabara. It being late evening with night fast approaching, he had needed somewhere to stay, so he'd dropped by my window.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I came home from work to find Hiei reclining on the windowsill, boots and cloak off, katana propped up by the window. Though I was delighted, I tried not betray my feelings and simply greeted him. He nodded in response. The evening passed quietly, and in a similar manner. Once in a while, I would glance over and ask him if he needed anything, but all my queries and attempts at conversation were met by a shake of the head or a curt reply.

"Do you need anything, Hiei?"

"No."

Silence.

"How is your position with Mukuro?"

"Fine."

Silence.

"Are you going back to Genkai's temple to visit Yukina?"

"I don't know."

Eventually, I'd gone to bed. When I woke up, he was gone.

I continued my routine existence, plodding on, day after day, burying myself in work and gardening so that I might forget two red orbs set in an alabaster moon. Overtime? I volunteered. Someone needed a break? I volunteered to do his work. After work, if I wasn't already exhausted, I would jog in the park. Total exhaustion ensures dreamless sleep, and dreamless sleep ensures that no katana wielding Forbidden child will trespass into my mind.

It worked until this week. Then, the workload was suspiciously lighter, and the manager kept bluntly hinting that she thought I needed a vacation. I'd refused until then—I was overworking myself for a reason, and I didn't need anyone to fix that for me. Probably because she couldn't get me to take a vacation, the manager decreased my workload. Which didn't help my situation at all. I didn't relish going jogging in the rain, so I came home and just sat. Reading wasn't distracting enough, and neither was watching television.

Obviously, my thoughts eventually wandered back to Hiei.

Luckily, the rain let up today, so here I am, sitting on a motionless swing in the park. The old man has wandered off to tend his flowers. There's no one here to keep me company, except for this rubber and iron swing, groaning and creaking under my weight. Are you pining for the children that used to play on you, swing? Do you miss the past when you had a purpose, when you had other swings around you, when you felt loved and needed?

The swing merely squeaks loudly, not answering. I shake my head ruefully—since when have I expected an inanimate object to answer my questions?It has no answers, and can only remain rooted in the woodchips where it was buried. No answers…no intentions…only memories of what was. I pity you, swing, and yet I can empathize. For I am no different.

I know I should let go. I know I could change. I know the past is only a series of mistakes to be learned from. But the one terrible mistake I made that I cannot correct was falling in love.

For the swing, he would be the boy who came back to play, to rediscover childhood memories, and what once was.

For me, he is a proud reminder of the world I left behind, the only one to come so close to my heart.

He doesn't know how I feel. Of that I'm certain. He may be a keen observer with his Jagan, but merely observing does nothing if you don't know what to look for. How many demons believe that love is an essential part of any relationship? Would a Forbidden Child understand and value that which is the source of his suffering? With that in mind, I started out slow—just tried to be friends and show him what it was like to have someone care. I had hoped that he might reciprocate, and that our relationship might eventually blossom into something more.

It hasn't. While he's the most relaxed in my presence, there's still a wall between us, and until I either breach it or he dissolves it for me…we're just friends.

I tilt my head back and stare at the sky. How can I be more blatantly obvious than I already am? Everything I do is a deliberate betrayal of what I feel—I speak for him when he does not, I cover his back, I tend his wounds, I welcome him into my life…yet he says nothing, does nothing and appears as though he does not realize.

Something wet hits my upturned face. The sky is cloudy, and the rain starts up again. And I'm still swinging.

Note: Too much rain is bad for any flower, but roses in particular should not be over-watered. They're not water mongers.


	4. Part Two

** Swing**

Part two

By Funara

Today is the Vernal Equinox.

Here in the Ningenkai, few know about the equinoxes and solstices and still fewer care. To them, it's just another whim of science, recording the dates when each season fades into the next, when each new season is "officially" beginning. It's stupid, really. But then again, humans have a wonderful gift for inventing useless concepts and gadgets. Most of them probably don't even know that equinoxes, like solstices, are measured by the distance of the Sun from the equator, or that the vernal equinox in one part of the world could be the autumnal equinox in another. Hn.

Who am I to talk, though? Most of this knowledge about suns and equators I gleaned from Kurama's textbooks. Not that he taught me. I merely glanced through them while he was away. In the Makai, demons have little use for scientific explanations. If something happens a certain way, at a certain time, that's just the way it is. Unless one has a good reason to investigate, it is best just to let it alone. And as I am a full blood demon, I have always followed this principle.

Still, as disgusted as I was to find that both demons and humans shared a disregard for explanations, I was even more appalled to find that my race and that of the fool Kuwabara's shared another disturbing characteristic: Both find the most pathetic excuses for celebrations and holidays. Was a man who was supposed to be the son of God reborn on this day millennia ago? Let's take some days off and have a good time. Was today the day we liberated ourselves from some oppressive rulers centuries ago? A party is in order. In the Makai, many find that although they have no idea exactly who conquered this territory or what group rebelled and massacred that other group, it's nonetheless a good reason to abandon their lords, get drunk, challenge someone far stronger than they, and get themselves killed. It's revolting how serious events are degraded until they become nothing but a reason for frivolous, pointless reveling.

The Vernal Equinox would be nothing but another example proving my point, did it not possess such an unusual nature, one that sets it apart from other trivial celebrations. This equinox is celebrated by humans and demons for the same reason—the commemoration of new life, and eventually, the meaningless generalization, "life". It is also celebrated by both ningen and youkai on the same day, although, because of its location in another dimension, the Makai's seasonal patterns are nothing like those of the Ningenkai. There is no such imaginary line like the equator to divide the demon world into two different sections, with each section following a specific seasonal pattern. Some places have one season; some have variations of the same season; some have multiple seasons. Without fail, though, no matter what season each Makai territory happens to be experiencing at the time, the day of the Ningenkai Vernal Equinox coincides with the day of the Makai Vernal Equinox. Even if a territory is locked in an eternal winter, that day is declared as the Vernal Equinox, the first day of spring. Furthermore, the Vernal Equinox is the only solstice or equinox to be noted in Makai.

Few demons in Makai remember why this equinox is celebrated, and almost none of them know about that the dates of the Ningenkai and Makai Vernal Equinoxes coincide. I do, solely because I have the misfortune to have one foot planted in Ningenkai and one planted in Makai and thus, have to endure a continuous stream of trivial miscellanies from both sides. By injecting a few questions and comments into each source's never-ending speeches, I was able to extract information and piece together an explanation.

As the story goes, the Ningenkai, Makai and Reikai were created simultaneously in an explosion that was given the childish name the "Big Bang" by ningen. Some sort of entity, the forerunner of ningen and youkai, named Sosen, was given the authority to rule Ningenkai and Makai, while Enma took Reikai. Neither ruler was allowed to interfere in the realms of the other unless asked.

At some point, demons began to appear in Makai, probably created as a way to alleviate Sosen's boredom with ruling two worlds barren of mobile life. After a sizable number of them began to thrive, Sosen sorted them by strength and banished the weaker ones to Ningenkai, leaving the strongest in Makai. The latter was his favored world and home; he preferred not to share it with worthless weaklings. Occasionally, a reversal of a previous culling would occur, and a demon banished to Ningenkai, if now deemed strong enough, would be allowed to return to Makai. The feeblest youkai eventually died and were taken to Reikai by Enma himself, who had been asked by Sosen to take care of the demons that died in Ningenkai.

This selection was repeated every year on the same day—the Ningenkai Vernal Equinox. The reason behind the date is unknown, though some sentimentalists with nothing better to do informed me that they believed that the Vernal Equinox was chosen, because "the rebirth of new life represented and reminded the Ningenkai outcasts of the chance they had to regain their old lives in Makai, while in Makai, the youkai that had passed the culling celebrated the continuing of their old lives. After all, Makai only had one season at this point." I chose not to waste my time pondering their reasoning, especially when expressed in such a dragged-out sentence; if it's not succinct, it's not important.

After several millennia, though, Sosen was killed by one of the youkai he'd hand-picked to inhabit his realm, and the culling ceased. Each world evolved on its own, the Makai eventually breeding weaklings, the Ningenkai producing rare powerful demons that were unable to return to their original home. Gradually, the Ningenkai's weak demons lost what little ability they had in the beginning and slowly became the powerless humans of the present day. Today, so many eons later, only faint traces of the Vernal Equinox remain. Youkai and ningen celebrate this day, not knowing why. Only one fully intact object has survived the passage of time, though its true meaning has been long forgotten and twisted instead into falsehoods through the foolishness and short memories of humans.

There is hardly a human that has not seen or heard of the yin yang symbol. So many of them, mainly females, decorate themselves with the image of the divided circle without knowing its original meaning. If they know anything about it, they believe that it was invented by the Chinese to depict the balance of opposites. How would they feel if they knew it was the mark of a ritual that condemned the most pathetic demons to a miserable life of shame?

The yin yang symbol was Sosen's personal symbol, designed to represent the way he viewed the three worlds. The black represented Reikai, and the white Ningenkai. The small circles with the opposite color of their backgrounds showed the dabbling of each world in the affairs of the other and its effects. The invisible boundary where one color ended and the other started was Makai. The slenderness of the line indicated that only a small band of elite were allowed to call the Makai home, and those elite had to possess great cunning as well as physical strength to be considered worthy. These two traits corresponded with the two points on the outside of the circle where the line between black and white began and ended.

The yin yang, like the Vernal Equinox rituals, once a youkai's greatest hope or greatest fear, has faded and completely deviated from its original purpose. Likewise, relations between the inhabitants of Ningenkai and the inhabitants of Makai, intended by Sosen to be based on a cycle of the waning power of some youkai and the growing power of others, have ceased to be of great importance. The majority of ningen do not believe in youkai. The majority of youkai have no interest in Ningenkai; they are occupied enough with their troubles in Makai. Only the most powerful of each species consider the other worlds, and they often do not take the opinions of the majority into account at all; they have either enough power or money to override the desires of others.

There is nothing left. Only the scorn that youkai hold for ningen remains, and even the former do not remember the fundamental reason why. Humans believe they are celebrating the rebirth of new life when they are celebrating the Vernal Equinox. Demons have no idea what they are celebrating, but they continue their reveling anyway; they do not care for unnecessary and undesired explanations. I, however, sought rationalization, and I am now one of the few who understand the reason for the Vernal Equinox. I have never cared for festivities, because they often include having to endure the company of dozens of inebriates. Today is the Vernal Equinox; parties of all sorts will be occurring across Makai. I had no intention to take part in any of it, and now, knowing that so many of the ones who will be the loudest and rowdiest after a few drinks would have failed Sosen's selection process, there is nothing for me to do except to turn away from these weak, contemptible ignoramuses and their frivoling.

I intended to observe the goings on from my room in Mukuro's fortress, as I had always done for any occasions I felt no desire to participate in. From what I had seen, the procedure for these holidays and festivals did not waver, at least not for the peasants. No matter what the celebration was for, the lesser demons always got drunk and gallivanted off to impregnate the nearest females they could find. If not females, then anyone that caught their fancy. Then, after they staggered out of bed, they would inadvertently get into a drunken brawl and usually end up getting killed. This time was no exception.

To my severe annoyance, although Mukuro did not approve of her retainers making off with her liquor, she apparently did not oppose the part of the Vernal Equinox that involved having sex. She even went so far as to invite me to share her bed for that night. "Join in the festivities, Hiei, "she coaxed. "Even the lords of the Makai and their heirs need a break sometimes." Her natural eye watched me closely, her mouth curved into a half smile that also carried a hint of a smirk.

Did she really expect me to accept? I hesitated, weighing the pros and cons of the matter. If I accepted, it might be a good chance for me to further ensure that she would not choose another heir over me. She was offering me an opportunity to cement our not-entirely-stable heir-liege relationship. Still…something held me back. I looked beyond Mukuro to the wall behind her. Hanging on the wall was a tapestry of something or other, but the only thing I saw was the colors of the threads woven into it. Scarlet…emerald…silver…and gold. Two faces flashed in my memory, and I had a vision of the smiling being who had so often been the subject of my drifting thoughts.

I started when I realized what I was doing and trained my eyes back on Mukuro, who was regarding me strangely. Suddenly, all the pros of her proposition evaporated into nonsensical steam. "I decline," I finally answered. She raised an eyebrow, but expressed nothing else. In the end, she gave me permission to take a few days off, as I "apparently had no interest in the goings on". Or so she said.

I had no idea where I planned to go, but now…I find myself in the Ningenkai, sitting in a very familiar tree, watching a very familiar window. Except…the familiar window contains an unfamiliar face; instead of Kurama's immaculate room, I am faced with a bedroom containing piles of magazines, papers strewn about wildly, and clothing littering the ground.

A brown-haired boy sits on the floor, and he has on an odd contrivance that consists of two circular pieces, each covering an ear, and a long piece that arched over the head, connecting them. There is a wire or cord trailing from each ear piece, and they converge into one cord that ends in a black circular object that sits next to the boy. I do not recognize him, but as he is not the one whom I seek, he holds no interest for me. Obviously, Kurama is no longer the occupant of this room.

I cast out my senses carefully, searching for a familiar red and silver aura. Nothing. I frown. I had not even detected a lingering presence, such as one leaves on a place often occupied or visited. That only meant that he had not been here for a while. Had he moved out?

I sigh and curse halfheartedly, tiredly. I am not in the mood for a wild goose chase. To get to the Ningenkai, I had to open my own portal, keep it open while I passed through and close it properly. I am exhausted from the ki drain and have no idea why I wasted so much energy to come to a world that bores and disgusts me.

I pull off the ward that covers my Jagan, and it opens wide, glowing amethyst. I jump lightly from the tree to the roof of Kurama's old house, to the next house's roof, and the next, until I reach a building tall enough to provide a decent view of the area around. I scan the area briefly and come up with nothing. So I proceed, leaping and gliding until I reach a building that was outside my Jagan's range when I first scanned.

This time, the results are favorable. There is faint residual ki in an office building—his workplace, I presume. Luckily, I can feel active ki in an area fifteen or so blocks from the office; that must be where he is now. I leave my bird's eye view and make my way over to the aforementioned area, keeping my Jagan open. When I arrive in its midst, I am not surprised to see that it is a park. I am surprised, though, to find that the fox's ki is not broadcasting itself from the gardens, but the direction of the playgrounds.

I re-ward my Jagan. Although there are several sets of playgrounds, I do not need it to find Kurama. I set off on foot for the first playground in sight, not caring if I am sighted. I do not look otherworldly, merely "bleakly dressed", as Kurama once told me.

I do not cast my senses as I usually would—to do so would inform him of my presence and that I do not want. Instead, I move quietly, almost stealthily. As I approach the first playground, though, I decide that it might be wiser to move among the trees, and I blur from the ground. The mere action takes more effort than usual, and I know that my weariness is catching up with me. I'm not about to collapse and doze off, but I do need to rest.

So I do. Settling myself on a thick tree branch, hidden by the shadows that abound near the trunk, products of the afternoon sun and the newly sprung foliage, I consciously relax my muscles. Contrary to my former beliefs, I apparently am on the edge of collapse, for I fall asleep instantly. Normally, I would set up wards, but for some reason I feel safe among the greenery, a security I thought to only belong to the plant-loving kitsune. I do not dream, or if I do, I do not remember it when I wake up.

When I open my eyes next, I notice that the sun is setting. I can only see through the gaps between the leaves, so I cannot actually see the sun, but I can see its yellow orange glow reflected on a puddle near the tree. It must have rained recently—the ground is no longer solid, but has become squelching mud of a thick, oozing consistency.

A movement draws my attention. I turn my head slightly, but I cannot see through the leaves. Getting up, I descend to a lower branch, where I can see the playground. Whatever moved before is still moving, and I see that it is a long, wide piece of sanded wood, with each end attached to a long chain that is in turn attached to an iron bar supported by six supports. I have seen an iron and rubber variation of this ungainly thing before—it is a child's plaything. I carefully search my memory for its name: swing. How terribly creative.

The swing continues to jerk back and forth. Obviously, a child just jumped off of it, probably landing on hands and knees in the mud. In fact, I can see small, round indentations in the mire where the boy's hands, knees and feet pressed down.

I turn, fully intending to continue my search for Kurama. Night will fall soon, and I have no intention of sleeping outdoors, not when it might rain again. However, something about the swing detains me—something is wrong with its movement…but I do not see what.

The swing never swings a full circle. Only half circles and arcs…but never a full circle.

I blink. So what if the swing never swung a full circle? It didn't have enough momentum or energy to, and with only a rider able to provide energy and momentum, it certainly could not reach a full circle with the rider's weight causing it to—. I cut off my train of thought abruptly.

It's ironic, really, that I came across this swing on the Vernal Equinox. On the day when ningen begin to think of their "circle of life", and youkai celebrate life with sex, and death with raucous brawls, I find myself staring at an object that cannot complete a full circle. Cannot fit into the pattern of today's festivities. Cannot conform.

It's disturbing to find a reflection of myself in an inanimate object.

I snort self-deprecatingly. That's what comes of pointless musing—a nonsensical thought train that eventually leads to my comparing myself to a human child's plaything.

I shake my head to rid myself of such thoughts, but they persist. Despite the sheer ridiculousness of it, though, the idea is somewhat true. How long has it been since I had a motive for living, a purpose, a goal? How long since I took part in something momentous enough to last me to the end of my life? Before I met the human boy Urameshi, before I became a Reikai Tantei, my only goal was to look for Yukina, for the sister who owned the other tear gem shed by our mother.

Then I found her.

What was left after that? I'd accomplished the only goal I'd ever set for myself, besides becoming stronger; that was an eternal, ever-present goal. What was left was being forced to fight alongside Yuusuke, Kuwabara and Kurama. Weeks and months passed, and as I became acquainted with the others, I became acquainted also with not having a driving purpose. Although I would never admit it aloud, I can admit to myself that I got soft emotionally, if not physically. I was never restless, for Koenma was always sending us off on missions, and I was fairly content. Idiotically, I thought that as despicable as staying in the Ningenkai was, as long as I had a place to stay and a challenge to meet, I wouldn't have to strive for more.

The Makai Tournament changed that. I defeated the implanter of my Jagan, but lost my life. After regaining it, I immediately lost to the one who owned the tank in which I was rejuvenated. Victory, defeat, victory, defeat and another victory followed that, for I became Mukuro's heir, heir to all of Alaric and the power that would entail.

Something went wrong after that. I should have been content as Mukuro's heir. I was heir to a third of the Makai, wasn't I? And such a position would have given me the power I had always craved, wouldn't it? It should have been enough to occupy me until my death, something that should have given me a chance to complete a full circle.

It didn't.

I lost something when I left Ningenkai and returned to Makai. The something that could have contented me until my death, something with enough momentum to carry me through a complete life-wheel. I didn't realize what it was until I looked at the tapestry on Mukuro's wall.

Kurama.

That fox…he's not like the others. Those who tried to sidle their way into my heart never invested so much emotion in the game. What fool would try to get close to a closed-hearted, closed-mouthed bastard like me? The odds of success were and are tiny. Curiosity and a craving for a challenge do not justify why he would participate in a pointless quest. Every good thief and assassin knows that if a method does not prove successful after the first attempt, it is necessary to abandon it. So why does he not stop? Instead, he hangs on tenaciously no matter how often or hard I push him away.

Cruelly, ironically, no matter how much this game means to him, he will never know how much I need it. And because he can stop the game whenever he so pleases, he has trapped me in a cycle of give and take.

I've always hated being trapped, whether mentally or physically. Who wouldn't? The roiling, instinctive fear of the unknown rises up, no matter how much one has prepared or trained. It's difficult to change base instincts, and fear is one of them. That is true for all races.

Demons, however, unlike most humans, are fatalists and acceptors. We do not pound on the walls of our prison, screaming and wailing for help, dwelling on the seeming hopelessness of our situation. We accept what is, and move onto what will be or what could be.

I was never afraid of the game Kurama played. I didn't understand why he played, though I could come up with a number of valid reasons, but I did know what he wanted—my heart. Unfortunately for him, he was far from the first. After the first tried, so long ago, to win my affection for her own purposes, I realized that I needed to erase my heart. Using every hatred and dark feeling I'd ever felt, I scooped out affection and friendship and all the rest of that shit, and left it on the roadside for some peddler to pick up. I was sure that Kurama was wasting his time trying to win a nonexistent prize. Still, I let him deceive himself. I accepted and played his game, simply to enjoy a good game. After all, because of my previous experiences in the field, I could, up to a degree, predict the tactics he would use.

But somewhere along the line, the tables turned. It cannot have been his doing, otherwise he'd have been smirking in that self-satisfied way of his. No, the change was not instigated by him; it is my fault. My guard slipped for a moment, and I lost my advantage, all the ground I'd gained. My mistake? As I escaped from my hunter, I paused to look behind me.

When did it happen? For the briefest of moments I stopped pushing him away to seriously consider his offer, and too late I remembered that prey is never to consider surrender, because to do so is to commit suicide. I did so, and inevitably chained myself to our game. Surrender is sweet, says the traitorous part of me that dared look back. Do not surrender! scream my instincts, and, caught between two opposing forces, I can do nothing but keep on running, forever prolonging a race that should have ended long before.

What did I see when I looked back? I saw emptiness, no one following me. Kurama appeared to have given up the game. For a few long weeks, he made no attempt to engage me in conversation or invite me into his room. I should have felt relieved. I should have felt triumphant, if anything. I had won the game after all. But I did not. I felt empty and useless. Have I not said that demons are acceptors? I had accepted playing the game, and now that it was over, I merely needed a little time to readjust.

But even as those thoughts crossed my mind, I knew they were not true. If I had accepted the existence of his game, then I should have accepted its demise, and moved on. Lingering and loitering, so descriptive of my actions, is forbidden.

I realized, then, that the game we had been playing had ceased to become a game to me—it was a necessity. Doesn't every prey feel some sort of dull satisfaction that its hunter is chasing him, and not another? I was guilty of the same charge. I wanted to be needed, I wanted someone to care about what happened to me, if only because he would win his game.

Some time later, Kurama started up his campaign again, teasing and laughing all the way. And I participated, to receive what little gratification I could. I kept on running, stopping to slightly encourage him and then taking off again. In doing so, I have started my own cyclic game.

It's odd how everything I think or encounter today seems to be related to circles. Why is everyone so damn fascinated with circles? Ancient rituals and their symbols are so often circular, swings try to swing in a full circle, even hunts, chases and games are circles, for once one is finished, another must begin...

I am not representative of a circle. My lifecycle proceeds in a straight line, no curving back to meet death and the beginning. My swing has nothing to propel it into a full turn. I am unable to finish this one chase to begin another. Maybe that's why no one is fascinated with me, why no one spares me a second glance.

Today is the Vernal Equinox, Kurama. Were you in the Makai, in your youko form, you might be enjoying the festivities. Instead, you're here in the Ningenkai. Does your reincarnated self not care for the raucous celebrations? Or perhaps you have forgotten the holiday?

Whatever the reason, you, like me, have isolated yourself from the rest. I abhor social gatherings, and my hatred for the fools who celebrate the Vernal Equinox without knowing its significance gives me even more reason to stay away from Makai today. Maybe you dislike the story behind this equinox, because it emphasizes the weakness of humans, a race whose blood now runs in your veins. Or possibly it is simply because the Vernal Equinox rituals are described as a cycle, a circle. You alone never seemed to be intrigued by circles, but by semicircles, incomplete rings. Perhaps it is because you know that you can push them to the end.

Know this, though, kitsune: I will not lose to you. Although your beautiful face and glib tongue unconsciously show me and tell me the things I crave to hear, I have not surrendered to you. Although I may silently beg you to restart your pursuit of me, my walls are not breached. And finally, although I may dream longingly of your smile and your body, I will not come to you like a docile lamb.

I leap lightly off the tree branch. I can sense your ki from the next playground. Separately and conjunctively, we have broken so many rules and traditions already, fox. That a human and a demon would interact at all is unusual. Bearing that in mind, along with the fact that criminals hold little respect for foolish regulations, I will break our routine this time. Always you have approached me, as you are the hunter. Now, however, it is my turn to seek you out.


	5. Part Three

**Swing**

Part three

By Funara

The blushing ochre sun, set against its background of titian sky, threw the trees in the park into a deeper shadow, sharpening the contrast between their dark boughs and the cheerful yellow of the playground. Shadows, long and ridiculously out of proportion, crisscrossed and melded together, not caring to which stationary caster they belonged. Their movement was as slow and as imperceptible as the descent of the sun they followed.

Abruptly, a figure darted from the seemingly black foliage to leap lightly to the branch of the adjacent tree, continuing in this fashion from tree to tree. Hiei had decided to take his time and not waste his energy on speed—after all, Kurama seemed in no hurry to move from his current location. The fire demon paused for a moment. There were only a few trees between him and the playground, and without having to cast his senses, he could feel the strong pulse of Kurama's aura.

The last trees were bypassed easily, and Hiei installed himself in a particularly leafy one just bordering on the playground, several yards from the swing sets. There was a convenient space between the leaves, giving Hiei enough room to properly see the figure seated on one of the middle swings. As usual, his black attire afforded him the luxury of seeing without being seen, especially given his position.

The half-koorime raked the kitsune over with his eyes, unconsciously checking for injuries as he had done so many times in the past. His subconscious and sense of routine satisfied, he examined the fox more leisurely. With all the shadows and signs of impending twilight, it was a bit difficult to clearly make out Kurama, but the youkai's eyes had no trouble adjusting, and he could see Kurama quite well despite the lack of light.

It had been three or four years since he had last laid eyes on the half-youko, but he seemed to have changed very little. He had made the transition from boy to young man, though, and it showed. Although Hiei doubted that any amount of ningen training could bring about the same results as the strenuous fights in the Makai, it was clear that Kurama's training had wrought some changes in his body. His shoulders were broader and more muscular, and his form slightly leaner, the effect only emphasizing the kitsune's ever-present beauty. Hiei had the back view, but from the familiar waves of rich scarlet hair, he doubted that Kurama's face had changed. Still flawless and still provoking an aching in his chest like nothing else could.

A caressing zephyr rustled the leaves around Hiei and ruffled the tresses he had been admiring. Respectively. Hiei was upwind of Kurama, and the breeze would blow his scent towards the fox. Hiei sat motionless, waiting for Kurama to make the first move. _He hasn't noticed my presence. He's getting soft. Let's see if that fox nose of his is as effective in this form._

Kurama stared unwaveringly at the forest ten yards in front of him and had been doing so for some time now. His gaze as well as his thoughts were distant. While he didn't seem to be paying attention, his instincts were fully alert, ensuring that danger would be recognized and proper precautions taken. The softly blowing wind brought no unknown scents, and Kurama unconsciously inhaled and identified each one. Strangely, among the scents of rotting wood and wet plants, there was a pleasant smell of tropical plants, mixed in with an enticing musk. It reminded him of the Makai and consequently, the little fire youkai that was currently residing there. In his languid state, the thought took several seconds to diffuse through Kurama's brain. However, when it registered, Kurama abruptly leaped from the swing and turned to face the thicket behind him, one hand instinctively going to his hair to pull out his trademark rose, quickly growing it into his favorite weapon. Tropical plants did not grow in Tokyo, but they did grow in Makai.

Kurama narrowed his eyes, searching for the hidden demon. _I can't sense any youki. He must've shielded it._ Kurama expanded his awareness to include the trees and plants nearest him, searching for the exact location of the foreign presence in their midst. The flora responded enthusiastically, telling him in their soundless language that the stranger was concealed near the trunk of the early bloomer in the front—the one that had soaked up all the sunshine and nutrients for itself and had sprouted leaves before the others. Kurama touched the aura of the tree in question, asking it to do a favor for him.

Hiei knew that Kurama had sensed his presence and was bound to find his hiding place soon, but he was completely unprepared when all the leaves on the tree suddenly retracted into their branches, effectively exposing the fire demon. Hiei cursed and jumped to the ground. Above him, the tree immediately re-grew all its leaves.

Kurama stared at the fire demon, who glared at him and folded his arms. Kurama's eyes widened, and he dropped his defensive stance. For a moment, he was speechless. "Hiei!" he exclaimed. "You're back!"

Hiei's expression didn't change as he walked towards the swing, stopping to face his best friend, who was standing on the opposite side of the swing. "Hn. Any fool with eyes could see that, baka."

Kurama smiled, really smiled, for the first time in months. After years of dreaming and grasping at memories, it was wonderful to actually see the fire demon and hear his deep voice, even if it expressed the contemptuous disdain he had always held for most beings. As Kurama walked around to Hiei's side of the swing, smile lingering, Hiei took a step backwards to allow Kurama room to stand in front of the swing. Instead, Kurama settled down on the swing itself, his eyes almost level with Hiei's.

A silence followed, during which Hiei, as always, waited for Kurama to start the conversation, and Kurama searched for a proper icebreaker. He had a dozen and more questions to ask, but the uncertainty of which one to ask first and whether his generally reticent friend would actually answer them weren't the only things holding him back.

Hiei was standing only a few inches from Kurama's knees. In other words, too close. Kurama had been vaguely surprised and pleased to see that Hiei had put less than the usual amount of distance between them, an action contrary to the fire demon's usual habit of staying away from others. This had fit well with Kurama's desire to be near Hiei, especially after such a long period of separation. Now, however, he was feeling the full impact of this favorable position, and trying to swallow his desire. He could acutely smell the scent from before—Hiei's scent, mixed with those of the Makai. The proximity allowed him to see the outline of the Jaganshi's muscular build beneath his cloak, and when he tilted his head up, vermillion orbs watched him expressionlessly.

The fox took a deep, silent breath and looked at the ground just behind Hiei. A distraction that let him clear his mind would be nice. Hiei did not bother to turn around, knowing there was nothing of great import behind him and choosing instead to study Kurama's features. He knew the fox's immediate enthusiasm had been dampened slightly by a forced measure of self control. It was his fault that they were so close, but he'd originally planned to do so to assert his control over the situation. Now though, he was beginning to regret his decision. He'd intended to play the game as they always had, with the fox as pursuer and he as the pursued; it was a familiar routine, and he was not required to be forward, which he disliked being. Hiei watched Kurama determinedly avoid eye contact and silently waited for him to say something. He continued watching him and unconsciously, as though he were fighting and needed to calculate if an attack were executable, judged the distance between them. If he just stretched out his hand, he could touch the soft red hair or the—he cut off that thought before it could progress, unsettled at how naturally it had occurred to him.

Hiei looked beyond the swing to the ground immediately behind it and noticed something odd. There should have been fresh marks in the mud if Kurama had been swinging, but the mire only contained faint imprints that were slowly being filled with fresh mud. The kitsune was wet, though, so he'd been here when it'd rained. How long had he sat there, motionless?

On an impulse, Hiei walked around to the swing to face Kurama's back. The fox in question blinked and used his feet (which were already resting on the ground) to twist, the swing turning with him. "What are you doing?"

Hiei gently pushed the fox forward, and the swing swung forward as well. "Turn around. You're twisting the swing." And indeed, the swing was twisting in an ungainly manner, its balance upset by the fact that its rider was facing backwards.

Kurama did not turn around. "Hiei? Why are you…pushing me?" he asked hesitantly.

_Stubborn fox._ The youkai pushed him again, a little harder this time. "That's what these things are used for, aren't they?' he grumbled, continuing to push.

The redhead looked surprised, but he folded and turned around. "Yes…that's what swings are used for."

Silence reigned for a few minutes as the swing swung back and forth, causing Hiei to back up. The longer he pushed, the more relaxed Kurama became. He'd been tense and stiff before, uncomfortable, but soon, he loosened up and swung his legs, building up momentum. Still, even with their combined efforts, neither of them invested much effort in the task, and the swing only reached Hiei's chest before beginning its downward descent.

Kurama spoke first. "Why did you come back? Shouldn't you be celebrating the Vernal Equinox at Mukuro's fortress?"

_He didn't forget._ "Mukuro gave me a few days off."

"Didn't want to join in the fun and festivities, did you?" He'd divined the reason immediately. Hiei didn't bother to affirm.

The next question was asked with far less casualness and far more carefully than the last. "And your position with Mukuro?"

Hiei considered his response. It was obvious that the fox didn't like Mukuro; he'd seen as much when he'd informed him that he was going to be Mukuro's heir, and the signs were present now. He settled for the truth. He didn't like the job, but he didn't not like it, it just was…"It's not what I thought it was."

"…"

"…"

"And yet you continued to work for her."

The Jaganshi didn't reply. He himself wasn't sure why he'd stayed. Part of it was because he'd wanted the kind of power the position could give. Part of it was because by giving up the position, he'd appear to be a weak, idiotic quitter, one who did not have the brain capacity to comprehend what he was sacrificing. Part of it was because if he'd left, he'd probably have made an enemy out of Mukuro, something he definitely didn't want. Part of it was because if he gave up the position, he would have to return to the Ningenkai in shame since wandering the Makai with Mukuro's rage trailing him would be out of the question. Strangely enough, part of it was because he'd felt he had nowhere else to go; after leaving the Ningenkai, he felt as though he had permanently severed his ties there and was no longer welcome, if he'd ever been welcome at all. Of course, these weren't the only reasons. There were many more tangled up together, most of them so jumbled and puzzling that Hiei didn't even want to try to understand them.

Kurama hadn't really expected an answer, but not receiving one still annoyed him, because this subject was something he honestly didn't understand about Hiei. And it didn't look like he was going to get an answer anytime soon either. Hiei's hands still pushed at his back in a regular rhythm, but he wasn't pushing as carefully as before and sometimes forgot to push at all. _Lost in his own thoughts. At least he trusts me not to attack him. _The thought was ironic. He'd spent so much time trying to get Hiei to trust him, and now, he was feeling grateful for a "trust" that a drunken youkai would show his bartender.

As the fire youkai continued to ponder, Kurama was growing more and more frustrated. He hadn't meant to bring up the subject of Hiei's position at all, but the thought had been chafing at him for some time. In fact, he'd consciously decided that if they hit on the subject, he would only ask empty, shallow questions that he already knew the answers to. He'd had his own theories, of course. As far as he'd seen, Hiei was an independent, preferring to make and carry out plans by himself. He wasn't one to willingly serve another without an ulterior motive, and even then, only for a short amount of time. The ulterior motive had been obvious, but the half-koorime had stayed for much longer than he'd anticipated. _Longer than I'd hoped. I thought his pride would get the better of him, and he'd leave._

Then again, maybe it was that very pride that prevented his friend from leaving. His gruff friend never backed out of anything unless it was absolutely necessary. And in this case, sacrificing such a coveted position would be akin to completing the successful thievery of an Orb of Power and then letting it collect dust. To do so would earn certain scorn, no matter how justified the action. Kurama sighed softly. _Even if he did give up the job, he probably wouldn't have come back to Ningenkai. The Makai is his home, as he so often reminds me._ _Still…_

The fox decided that the only way he was going to get any sort of response out of Hiei or to take up the threads of their conversation again was to pretend as though the fire demon had answered the question and skip to the next logical topic. The half-youko took a deep breath. The "next logical topic" was one that he knew Hiei probably didn't want to talk about, but he had to ask—it was another thing he had to clear up with the dark demon. He closed his eyes and spoke.

"Why didn't you come back to visit, Hiei?"

Silence. Not even an "I was too busy". Not that Kurama'd expected Hiei to make transparent excuses. At least he could feel his friend watching him, which meant he was also listening.

"Nobody kicked you out of the Ningenkai, Hiei, or said that you couldn't come back. You left of your own volition. Were you so busy that you couldn't take one day, or even a few hours off to see us? To at least acknowledge that we still existed? Not once in three years?"

Kurama was dimly aware that this was not he had meant to phrase the question, but his mouth seemed to move of its own, spilling all the angry, impulsive thoughts that had crossed his mind in those three long years. Hiei didn't make a sound.

"Maybe you didn't care about us, but we cared about you, Hiei. I've seen the others many times since you left, and in the beginning, they did ask about you. Had I received word from you? About what you were doing, how you were in general? But I had nothing to offer them, and the questions stopped after a while.

"Not all of them, though. Do you remember who you left behind in the Ningenkai, Hiei? The one you swore to protect? She hasn't forgotten; she asks me about you every time I visit Genkai's temple." Kurama turned his head back as far as he could without upsetting the swing. "Yukina still cares, Hiei, regardless of whether you do."

He studied the small face of the youkai behind him, searching for a clue, a flicker of feeling. Nothing. He turned back around.

"Are you so coldhearted, so tough that you can't even admit that you care about your sister? After you went to such lengths to find her? She doesn't know you're her brother, but she still cares! I don't understand, Hiei, " he said heavily, "why you can't just admit that you care. I—"

At that point, Hiei ended his quasi-tirade by abruptly grabbing the long chains of the swing. The swing jerked back and forth in an effort to adjust to the sudden change. Before Kurama could turn around, Hiei had flitted to face the kitsune, grabbing and clenching the chains half in exasperation, half in almost anger. Bending down and over Kurama's legs so that his face was only centimeters from Kurama's, he watched the kitsune for a moment. "Don't lecture me on what you know nothing about, fox."

Kurama lost none of his composure. His eyes hardened as he replied. "So I don't know anything, Jaganshi? Being on the receiving end of your non-communication doesn't give me any sort of authority to speak on the subject? Watching the reactions of those who care about you doesn't lend me any credentials?" He paused and continued, "I thought you didn't like liars—that's why I'm saying what I really think." He halted briefly. "Does it bother you that much?"

Hiei replied evenly, "No it doesn't. I didn't say that you couldn't say anything, I said that you didn't know anything." Before Kurama could cut in, he added, in a quieter tone, "I care a lot more than you would know. And I'm willing to admit it."

The beautiful redhead stared at him in shock before pulling away a little. He closed his eyes and sighed. When he next opened his eyes and spoke, his tone was much softer. "Admit it to whom? If you cared, you could've shown it, instead of hiding it like some sort of guilty secret."

Hiei pulled away and let go of one of the chains, holding the other loosely. He looked over the tops of the trees to watch a lone bird's flight across the sky. "There's only one person to tell."

Kurama was disappointed. He'd been temporarily disappointed when Hiei'd pulled away…_so close…_and he was disappointed again now. He knew who the little demon meant. It was always the same. But it didn't lessen his disappointment any each time he asked. "Yukina."

An unexpected thing happened then. The half-koorime didn't nod or show any signs of confirmation. Instead, he turned to the half-youko, amusement alternating with self-satisfaction in his burgundy orbs, as if he had a piece of rare knowledge in his possession. Which he did. "Yukina knows."

Kurama's eyes widened in shock. "What? When did you tell her?" Ever since Yuusuke, Kuwabara and Hiei himself had rescued the koorime, Kurama had been trying to get Hiei to tell her that he was her brother, to no avail.

"I didn't tell her. She figured it out on her own." _She is my sister after all. Not quite as naïve as everyone seems to think. _He remembered her exact words. She'd discovered him in a tree outside the temple and had posed the same question she always did. When he'd given his usual answer, he'd expected her expression to sadden, as it always did. It did not. Instead, she'd smiled and said, "It's all right. I've already found my brother, so you don't have to search anymore…oniisan." He'd almost fallen out of the tree.

Kurama was puzzled. "But if it's not Yukina you need to tell, then who…" he trailed off.

Hiei grasped the other chain with his free hand and bent down to be on the same eye level as Kurama. "I would have thought that was obvious, fox," he said softly. Swiftly, determinedly, he closed the distance between their mouths and kissed those smooth lips.

Kurama had barely had time to register Hiei's cryptic words before he felt warm lips against his. He only had time to think _Hiei's kissing me!_ before he gave up his mental capacities to enjoy the physical sensations of the moment. The fire demon's eyes were closed, and Kurama followed suit as he pressed his own mouth back against those delicious lips. Two small hands abandoned the chains they had been clutching. Strong arms wrapped around Kurama's shoulders, and supple ones wound around Hiei's waist.

Hiei growled when Kurama kissed back, not in warning or annoyance, but in satisfaction and pleasure. It seemed the fox was just as willing to surrender to him as he was to break down the youkai's walls. The fire demon grinned against the half-youko's lips. _Half-youko! He's just as enthusiastic as any full youko, even though he's in his human form. Not that that's a bad thing._

Kurama tried to pull Hiei closer to him, but his own knees and thighs were in the way. Hiei pushed against him, but all he did was push the swing forward. When he eased the pressure, it swung back at him, and Kurama's knees knocked gently against his legs, pushing him back a little. Hiei sighed mentally in frustration and carefully broke off the kiss.

Kurama made a little noise of dissent and tried to reach up to kiss him again. Hiei shook his head amusedly and put a finger to Kurama's lips. Kurama kissed then licked the finger and, a seductive smile on his lips, looked up at the fire demon, who shook his head again. _He certainly doesn't act like this under normal conditions!_

"Move over, Kurama," he said.

Kurama raised an eyebrow and cast a quick glance at their immediate surroundings. "Where?"

Hiei studied his position for a moment. "Never mind. Just stay still." He held onto one of the chains and lifted the opposite leg over the wooden swing so that it was resting next to Kurama's leg. Luckily, the swing was low to the ground, so the task was accomplished with little delay. Grabbing the other chain, he hoisted himself into the lap of the bemused kitsune, placing his other leg next to Kurama's. "Much better."

The redhead chuckled and wrapped one arm around the half-koorime's waist and the other around his shoulders. Drawing him in, he rested his forehead on Hiei's. "Anything else to take care of?" The Jaganshi shook his head. "Good."

Kurama nuzzled the soft, ebony hair that was so conveniently in front of him and inhaled the pleasant smell wafting from them. _Smells just like Hiei._ He proceeded further down to nuzzle the smooth skin of Hiei's face and finally, to kiss the fire demon's lips again. Hiei'd had no reaction except a few shivers to Kurama's previous actions but now he enfolded the fox in an embrace and kissed back.

Kurama was calmly euphoric. This was what he'd so fervently dreamed about and willed to happen, what he'd wanted so badly, what he'd craved. A restless adrenaline seeped through him, heightening the sensation of every touch, magnifying the delightful feelings, but also reminding the kitsune why he'd wanted this so much.

After being reincarnated as a human, Kurama had become painfully well acquainted with regret. Tossing and turning at night, unable to shut out the memories of the deeds he'd committed as a youko, he saw the hedonistic, heinous edge of so many of what he'd deemed casual actions—his thieving of valuables merely so he could say he'd stolen it, his lack of mercy towards those who had unknowingly bothered him in the slightest, his fickleness and infidelity when it came to lovers. Even now, after twenty-two years of humanity, the nightmares sometimes still hovered on the edge of his consciousness, refusing to be banished.

Those nightmares were half the reason he'd agreed to become a Reikai Tantei. (The other half being that he had no wish to spend the next lifetime in a dank Reikai jail cell) The "good-guy attitude" that other demons derided wasn't adopted entirely out of ningen morals, but also as an attempt to, if not negate the crimes of his former life, then to at least whitewash them and hopefully ease his guilt a little. It was selfish of him, but it'd gained him some reprieve and peace of mind.

Kurama wanted to share that feeling with Hiei. The youkai was not beset by reincarnation-induced moral quandaries, but Kurama knew that no demon led an easy life unmarked or unblemished by cruelty and horror, let alone a demon who had been ostracized and abandoned by his own kind. A sweet, innocent sister like Yukina would only serve as a standard of comparison against which the bloody secrets that soiled him would seem darker and deeper. Kurama had hoped the half-koorime would open up to him enough to talk about his past, allowing Kurama to shoulder some of his burden. As stoic as Hiei appeared, he was no Atlas, and he was struggling to carry the weight of his own sins, let alone the weight of the sky.

For over three years, the fox's efforts had been blocked by Hiei's pride and aloofness. Now, though, for some unknown reason, the youkai had accepted him and had even approached him on his own. The first hesitant step had been taken, and the next ones had been walked assuredly, smoothly. Kurama was relishing it, and so, apparently, was Hiei.

Hiei was blissfully relaxed. For once in his lifetime, he could let go of his psychological inhibitions and immerse himself in the physical. There was no need to keep part of his mind detached and alert, watching for traps and traitors, because his partner was one he'd been working with for years and observing for even longer He trusted Kurama and right now, he needed him very much.

In all the physical relationships he'd been in, neither he nor his partner had needed the closeness. Wanted it, maybe, but never needed it. Besides, there had never been any deep affection on either side. The thought that Kurama cared deeply about him did not frighten him as much as the fact that he himself cared and wanted to be cared for.

He pushed the fear and the disturbing sentimentality aside, leaving them to be dealt with later. He would not destroy the moment with troubling thoughts.

Hiei was unaware of the outside world, thoroughly savoring each stimulating sensation that enticed and beckoned to him to leave his tense reality and enter the open-eyed dream. He temporarily forgot that he was a Forbidden Child, forgot that he was in alien world that bored him, forgot that in a few days' time, he would be returning to a world and a fortress where death rewarded the smallest slip. He only noted the movement of the kitsune's hands, the warmth of his body, and the taste of his mouth.

When they finally pulled apart, the sun had sunk behind the thicket, the last of its rays peeping through and illuminating every space and opening in the foliage. The before-unheeded twittering and intermittent cries of the resident birds diminished as twilight languidly approached. A breeze stirred the leaves, bringing with it less warmth than its afternoon brothers.

The two demons sitting on the swing watched the peaceful scene, subconsciously noting and storing away each detail. Kurama, who had his arms loosely wrapped around Hiei's waist and his cheek resting on Hiei's hair, pushed against the ground a little, starting the swing in a slow oscillation. Hiei, who had his arms wrapped around the middle of Kurama's back and his cheek resting on Kurama's collarbone, readjusted his position a little and sighed. Neither of them wanted to break the silence.

Kurama gathered the warm bundle sitting in his lap closer to him. "Hiei?"

Hiei made a questioning noise.

"Why did you come back?"

Hiei was silent. He briefly considered telling him that he didn't know, but that wasn't true. "It was time for it to end."

"For what to end?"

"The game. The one we were playing."

Out of the fire demon's sight, Kurama knit his brow. He had a vague idea of what Hiei was talking about, but he wasn't really sure. Better to ask than assume, he supposed. "What game?"

Hiei groaned, resigned to having his repose permanently interrupted by his inquisitive fox. "The chase. The hunt. Whatever you want to call it. Weren't you chasing me?" He raised his head to look up at the kitsune.

Kurama raised an eyebrow, then blinked a few times. He then burst out laughing. Hiei frowned at him. When he'd finished laughing, he wiped away a few tears and grinned.

Hiei continued to frown at him. "What's so funny?"

Kurama shook his head, still smiling. "Nothing, just the way you phrased it…"

"It wasn't that funny. Not funny enough to provoke tears of mirth, or whatever you call it."

"They weren't tears of mirth; the laughter and the tears were separate."

"Then why were you crying?"

The half-youko smiled sadly. "Because you noticed. All those years of trying to get close to you paid off. I thought that you never noticed or cared, but you did. So I'm happy. And those tears were tears of rejoicing at finally having something I've wanted for a long time: you."

Hiei snorted. "You make it seem like I'm some sort of prize or reward."

Kurama's seriousness went as quietly as it came. He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against Hiei's. "But you are. The best prize in the world, and you're mine, and not anyone else's," he purred.

Hiei snorted again and pushed against his chest. Not very hard, it could be noted. Kurama hugged him.

"Kurama."

"Hm?"

"I'm not surrendering."

"Of course not," Kurama replied, not really listening.

"You'll have to work to earn your own prize."

Kurama was listening now. And he grinned. _Still as proud as ever._ "The same goes for you," he joked.

Hiei took it seriously and nodded. Mentally, though, he almost smiled. _Looks like our game hasn't ended after all. _

"Hiei?"

The fire demon raised his head to look up at Kurama.

"How long do you have? To stay here, I mean."

Hiei closed his eyes and leaned back against Kurama's chest. "A week, maybe more." _That's how long the festivals usually last._

"All right." _Maybe we can have our own festivities_.

And then, Kurama stretched and patted the youkai's hair. "Let's go."

Hiei reluctantly unwrapped his arms from around the fox, lifted his head, and pulled one leg, then the other off of the swing. He offered Kurama his hand, an unnecessary gesture that communicated the feelings that he wasn't yet ready to discuss. Kurama took it and slid off the swing but didn't let go.

"Where are we going, fox?"

Kurama squeezed his hand gently. "Home."

Notes: oniisan: older brother

Atlas is a giant from Greek mythology who holds up the sky. Sometimes, in statues, he's shown as holding up a globe. Actually, Atlas really hated holding up the sky, because it was boring and heavy. Tress even grew around and between his toes and feet. Once he tried to get Hercules to hold the sky up for him, because Hercules wanted three apples from the Garden of Hesperides. If a mortal were to pick these apples, he would die, so Atlas got Hercules to hold up the sky while he went to pick the apples. Hercules was grateful for the apples, but when he tried to give the sky back to Atlas, Atlas refused, because he liked not having to hold up the sky. Atlas was going to leave, but Hercules asked him to hold the sky for a just a moment, so he could adjust his lionskin to make a better buffer between the sky and his shoulders. Atlas agreed, and Hercules left with his apples.

--owari--


End file.
